The Calm Before the Storm
by thestarkedsoldier
Summary: A year after S.H.I.E.L.D. is formed, a new threat is introduced when a base is attacked and many are killed. As the years pass and the agents dig deeper into the investigation, they discover the Winter Soldier project, and during a mission in Russia, find the Winter Soldier himself, Bucky Barnes. {I promise the actual story is better than the lame summary.}
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I do not own Marvel, nor am I affiliated with the company. _

_See end for Author's Notes. :)_

It was 1947 when the Winter Soldier was introduced as a threat to S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was a Thursday when word was sent to the Home Base that a remote base in Chicago had been burned to the ground, killing over 120 agents in with it.

Those who survived told horrifying stories of a man with a metal arm, who single-handedly murdered the majority of the victims, and of the cold stare he gave off.

This unidentified man was put on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official radar immediately, and the call for this man to be brought into custody was given out on a worldly basis. Any man who may have known who he was or where they could find him was offered a fine settlement for this information. No word came from this, and so the price was raised. Whoever found the man with the metal arm was to be given $500,00, nothing short, nothing more.

There was no response for years.

Still, the case was never closed. There was too much at stake, too many lives being lost due to this dangerous man. "If there is word," the co-founder of the organization, Director Peggy Carter said during the memorial service held for those who lost their lives at the Chicago base. "If there is word, we will not hesitate, we will not show mercy, and we will not fail to bring justice to these brave men and women." Her confident spirit faded as the years trudged on, and hope that this man would be found was lost with the man himself.

Until the year 1952.

It was a calm morning as Director Peggy Carter walked into the headquarters of the organization, fittingly positioned in Washington, DC. They had slowly built the company up from the ground, and it was now a leading government organization, something she and her partner, Howard Stark were very proud of. The calm of the morning faded as she walked in her office to see a man sitting in her chair, none other than Howard Stark himself. He did not say a word(which was the first flag in her mind, honestly.) but simply moved a folder towards her. The words said, 'WINTER SOLDIER' in red print, and that itself was unsettling. However, the things inside the folder were far more disturbing. She read reports of sightings, but the statements were never finished, and the papers themselves were stained red. She read on, though, to see more statements. They were all terrified, as if they had seen a ghost, and some even worse. The worst, though, was the pictures.

The man wore a metal arm with a red star imprinted to it, much like the descriptions of the man responsible for the Chicago disaster.

It took all but an hour for her to read all of the information in the folder, and to start to find the man. That night, a team was sent to Moscow, only given the retrieve the Winter Soldier and bring him back to face the consequences of his actions. Among the team was Peggy herself, two of the Howling Commandos, Privates Jim Morita and Gabriel Jones, as well as many high clearance level agents. It was below-zero temperatures, and none of them knew what to expect. They began towards an abandoned building, Carter leading them through the heavily secured gates. There was an eerie noise in the background, the sounds of metal being scratched and repeatedly hit, and it sent shivers down every one of their spines, though none of them would ever admit to it. They continued, as silent as the wind itself. They only took out who they needed, and never once spoke. It was too risky. Peggy walked into a small corridor, the noises growing louder and louder. They all piled in behind her, locking the doors silently and placing a small device to keep the noise from leaving the room. They all held their guns close and started towards a door, each of them taking a deep breath before an agent kicked the door down and let the men – and Peggy – into the room, and at their feet, the scientists in the room fell to their knees, then to the floor. They looked around for the Winter Soldier, but there was no sign of the man. They scanned each device, each corner, but could find nothing but advanced technology that was already destroyed. Someone had come to destroy before they had, but they did not know who. Peggy continued to search after they had given up, desperate for some sort of answers. She pulled cloths from machinery, pulled open doors, but could not find anything.

Until she did.

She pulled open a door, and what she saw would haunt her for her entire life. Inside a small chamber, as cold as ice, was the Winter Soldier himself. However, that was not what alarmed her. She covered her mouth as shaky breaths came out, stepping back. "O-oh god.." She whispered, and to her shock, the men came to her aid. As they saw the man frozen in the chamber, they all responded similarly to their director.

Before their eyes was none other than Bucky Barnes, a fellow Commando, Steve's best friend, and now, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s number one enemy.

_A/N: Just a few things! I just wanted to make sure that it is known that this is an Alternate Universe, and this is not something that actually happens in the MCU (but wouldn't that be awesome?), and also that some things may not be historically accurate, and any suggestions or corrections are welcome, as well as just letting me know what you think. Thanks for reading! _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: See end of chapter for all Author's Notes. :)_

It took them two long days to return with the man who was once Bucky to the Home Base. There, Howard immediately went back to work on figuring out just how to wake him, and how to sedate him if it was needed. Peggy watched from a distance (mostly just overjoyed that Howard had a new lab rat that was not unsuspecting agents) and tried hard to comprehend the situation. She read the file on his death, and yet, here he was, as alive – or so it seemed – as he was when she met him. There was another feeling running through her, one that must have resembled sadness. If he were to live, was there a possibility that Steve could as well? She tried her hardest to keep those thoughts away, knowing they would lead to nothing but more heartache, and she had fair share of that already. Never had she felt so helpless, so weak in a situation. He lay flat on a bed, doctors all around him. No one knew how to wake him, or if he would wake at all.

"It's a good thing we found him when we did," Howard's voice filled the viewing room, making Peggy jump in her seat. Under normal circumstances, she would give him an unnecessary comment about scaring a woman and the consequences of doing so, but this was not a normal circumstance at all. She only gave him a look, then returned to watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to show just a small sign of consciousness. Anything would hold her over. Howard moved a chair and sat next to her, running his hand through his dark hair. "He's been frozen, or that's what it seems like. We don't know what to do, or how to make it better, or even if he wants to wake up. I don't think this guy wants to be saved, Peg-" "You have to wake him," she interrupted, rather rudely at that. "I'm sorry, but he has to wake up. We need answers." She stood up and walked to the glass, watching the doctors work. "Pegs, regardless of whether he wakes up or not, he's a murderer of our own people. You promised all of those families that he would be brought to justice, and you-" "I know what I said, Howard. I did not know the man was Steve's friend, I.. I didn't know it was the James Barnes. I did not know, and that is something you cannot blame me for," she interrupted once again, this time with a bit more desperation.

It was then that Howard knew why it had been so important to her. "Peggy, look, its-" "No, do not do this to me again. It is not because I am 'grieving' or because I miss him, it is for the single fact that the man in there fell off of a high speed train and survived with no injuries other than the loss of his arm. I want to know how that is possible, and how he managed to wipe an entire base off of our maps without so much as a hint that he was there. I want to know why they had to die, why he had to die, why there was so much-" She stopped to the sound of screams and loud bangs in the distance, and she turned to look at the room, only to see the doctors laying lifeless on the ground and Bucky standing over them with a wild look in his eyes. "Holy s-" Before Howard could finish, Peggy ran off, grabbing a sedative before pulling open the door to the room where he stood, locking the door behind her. He turned around immediately and gave her a murderous stare, one that sent shivers down her spine. "Bucky, please calm down, we are not here to hurt you or put you in that chamber again. We are here to help." His response was to advance towards her, causing her to fall back onto the cold floor. His metal arm gripped her neck, and his knee dug into her stomach, making breathing all but impossible. "Who is Bucky?" He asked through gritted teeth, and as he did so, she drove the needle into his arm, and soon, he lay limp on top of her. She pushed him off using all of her strength, then stood up slowly, still trying to catch her breath. When she finally walked out, Howard looked over her as if she had grown another head, then looked in the room. "Peggy, what in the name of-" "He doesn't know who he is. He's been brainwashed."

Hours later, the price for information on the Winter Soldier was reduced to nothing, and the case was closed. All information on the man was redacted, and the project itself was labeled Top Secret.

A day later, the Winter Soldier woke up after a series of sedatives, his arms, legs, and torso tightly tethered to the table. He struggled, of course, but even the strongest of men could not escape. "We just want answers, nothing more," a soft voice said, her voice echoing in the room. He looked around to see the same woman as before, but yet again, she was alone. Panic ran through him as he realized what had taken place, and how much pain they would put him through once they realized he was no longer in the chamber. He did not say a word, but his breathing became quickened and harder as he tried to break the restraints. "There's no point in trying to get out," she said, stepping closer and unfastened the restraints, letting him move freely. "We aren't going to hold you captive. You're free to do as you please." He looked over the woman, searching for some sort of catch. No one ever let him do things by his own choice, why would this woman be any different? He sat up slowly and looked around the room, looking for a way out. As soon as he saw the door, he went for it, knowing that the woman could not stop him if she tried. He reached for the handle, smirking to himself. "You may not remember who you are, but I do. You're a good and reasonable man, and an excellent soldier. I will give you answers if you give me some as well, and I won't force you to do anything you do not want to do. This is your choice, but I know what I would choose." She knew him.. The thought raced through his brain as he tried to figure out what she meant, and more importantly who he was. He was the Winter Soldier. He was a murderer. He was.. He did not know who he was. His hand dropped to his side and he turned around, looking the brunette over once again.

"What do you need to know?"

_A/N: Hello again! I just wanted to mention again that this is in fact a work in progress, and I will be posting rather quickly for the first ten chapters. Thank you for reading, and please, let me know if there's anything wrong, whether it is a small grammar error or a historical error. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_There was a slight panic before he hit the ground, but it was gone as soon as the impact was made. He was certain he was dead, he had to be. Everything around him was cold, but yet, he could not feel a thing. In moments, he opened his eyes, first shocked he could even do so, then felt himself being dragged out of the cold. He looked in front of him to see a trail of blood, no doubt his own, and then to his arm – or lack of one. He was being saved, but part of him did not know if that was the right choice. Saving a man who did not want to be saved was pointless, and he did not want to be saved. He knew he should have felt pain, or at least some sort of hurt, but as he was dragged into a dark and cold room, he still felt nothing. "St-...Steve.." He managed, but it was not long before he fell back into the bed he was strapped to, diving into unconsciousness once again. When he woke, he lifted his arms, now looking over the metal hand that replaced the hand he once had. He moved it around, staring at it with wide eyes. He then looked around at the doctors and the machinery, and that is when he lost control of himself. He pulled on the restraints, and in seconds, they fell to the ground as if they were nothing. The doctors tried to stop him, though it was pointless. Soon, he was standing over their bodies, ashamed of himself and what he had become. He was a monster.. They made him into a monster. He felt a sharp pain in his side, and the arm that once helped him accomplish this was now shocking him, making him cry out in pain. When he woke up again, he did not know who are where he was, but he did not care._

_All that mattered was the next target._

He woke up in a cold sweat, and he sat up in the bed, breathing heavily. "A dream, it.. It was.. a dream," he assured himself, though it was not a dream at all. It was a distant memory, one that haunted him every moment he woke, every second he closed his eyes. He felt the fear kick in, just as it had when they stripped him of his identity and shoved something new in its place, just as it had when they turned him into a monster. He ran a hand through his hair, then looked at his metal hand. Unlike the rest of him, it stayed still while he shook. "You are a gift to society, the world's salvation.. You will shape a nation.." The voices rang in his head, making him bring his hands to his head, as if he were trying to squeeze the memories out. "You are the Winter Soldier. The man you were before is dead." He let out a scream, wishing the voices would stop. He did not know who they belonged to, what they wanted, why they chose him.. There were no answers, no explanations. "S-stop, please stop.." He begged, and the world around him changed. He was not a soldier, he was weak and scared. Tears fell down his cheeks, and as they did, he shook violently. This was not the first time, either. They were there, watching him whenever he closed his eyes. He was not a free man, nor would he ever be. As he let out his anger and fear into a series of screams and sobs, he felt arms wrap around his shoulders, something he never expected. "It is alright, it was a nightmare and nothing more," she whispered, and for a moment, he believed her. That moment passed, and he was left to sob in her arms, like an infant to his mother.

Hours later, he was again alone in the hospital room, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. The doctor's voices in his head quieted, and thanks to the woman, so did his fear and panic. Still, he felt ripped of his pride, and left without dignity. This was what they did to him, they corrupted him and left him damaged. His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar clicking sound of the door opening, and he turned to see who it was. The brunette woman walked in, her eyes bloodshot and her expression dark. "How are you feeling?" She asked, her voice not matching her expression. He did not say a word, just looked away, fighting the urge to react in anger. He gripped the hospital bed, clenching his teeth along with it. "That bad, I suppose," she whispered, then let the silence consume them both. They sat like that for what felt like hours, that is, until he looked over at the woman, searching for some sort of answer in her. She sat still, staring at her hands sadly, as if she was reminiscing on the past, as if she was just as damaged as he was. She wore her hair down in soft curls, her long hair falling over her face, and the way she dressed herself, she had to have been important. "Who are you?" He asked bluntly, making her look up quickly. She seemed shocked, as if she never expected him to ask. "Director Margaret Carter of S.H.I.E.L.D., but I suppose.. I suppose you wouldn't know me as that. Agent Peggy Carter of the Strategic Scientific Reserve." She smiled politely, but it faded in seconds. "How do I know you?" She raised an eyebrow to this, then looked away. "We had a common interest," she replied vaguely, but as she did, her expression changed into one of sadness, but she hid it with a weak smile. "Do you remember a man named Steven Rogers?" She added, and immediately, his interest peaked. He could recall calling out for a man named Steve, but he did not know who he was. He did not know why he was important. "No," he answered honestly, then shook his head. "I should, though. I know I should."

"I'll show you."

_A/N: Cutting right to the chase! This is going to be going at a really fast pace, since I only wanted it to be a short story anyways. Just a heads up. Thanks again for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

Typically, when Peggy walked down the halls of the Home Base, no one looked at her, no one dared to. This time, though, it seemed no one could take their eyes off of her and the man following her. She had given Bucky a dark jacket, and a hat, and told him to follow her out into the open, out of that congested and sterile room. After all, he was not a patient, or a prisoner. He looked around at all of the agents looking at them, then sped up to walk beside her. "They look at me like I am going to murder everyone in a second," he whispered, ducking his head slightly. She did not even look at him, but kept walking with purpose. "In their defense, you did manage to kill a group of our doctors with your bare hands in just seconds," she stated bluntly, making him groan a bit. It was not like he had control over what he did, or as if he knew he had hurt them – much less kill them. "They are terrified of me, aren't they?" Again, she did not seem fazed by his question, but just lifted her shoulders slightly. "Are you?" She narrowed her eyes slightly to his question, then shook her head. "No," she responded, then pulled open a metal door, walking in without a second thought. "Why not?" He asked, keeping up with her with ease. To this, she stopped and looked over to him, raising an eyebrow. "Because I trust you." He was shocked at this, but did not let it show. "Why?" he scoffed, stopping as well. Her expression darkened slightly, and she gave him a look that even he could not decipher. "A good man trusted you with his life, and I will always trust his judgment," she stated, almost seeming like she had to prove the statement to herself. "That Steve guy," he nodded, trying to understand. She nodded a bit, but did not say a word. "I wanna meet him, I mean.. he might have answers." As soon as he said it, she walked off, crossing her arms. "Captain Rogers is dead."

When she finally stopped, she looked over a large placard, a small number of names inscribed on it. He stopped beside her, looking over the names. _Abraham Erksine, James 'Bucky' Barnes, Steven Rogers.._ He read the names then looked over at her. "This is the wall of valor. All of the men and women on this list died in action, each one of them with a legacy to follow them." He stepped towards it, looking over the names. "And that's me, isn't it?" He looked back to see her nod, then he continued to read the names. "And Steve Rogers, who was he?" He stepped back, looking down at the brunette. She took a bit to answer, as if she was preparing herself. "He was a good soldier, and even better man. He shaped a nation by simply being in it, and for his acts of bravery and courage during the war and outside of it. He sacrificed himself for the lives of millions, and saved the lives of those worldwide." Her words were monotone and obviously practiced, as if this was not the first time she had been asked. "You were one of his Howling Commandos, one of the members of his team. You were his right side man, his best friend. You knew him your entire life, and stood by him until.. until a mission went south and took you with it." He stared at her for a long while, not entirely sure how to react. If the man was so important, why did he not know who he was? Why did he not understand? She took this moment of silence as an opportunity to compose herself, wiping away the tears that fell without permission. "And what was he to you?" He dared to ask, narrowing his eyes at her. She did not respond, but let the silence once again consume them. He decided to look at the placard once again, taking a deep breath. Whoever these men were, they seemed important. "I want to know who I was, Agent Carter. I want to know what I did and the kind of man I was before.." He motioned to his right arm, then looked back at her. "Before this." She nodded a bit, taking a deep breath. "Well, at least we know where to start."

After a few weeks staying in the hospital room, things were arranged for him to stay in a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe room, a room that technically did not exist. The only ones with access to the room were the doctors who checked up on him once a week, Howard, and Peggy. The only one he ever allowed in the room was Peggy, and only on the weekly visits to talk. No one knew what all they discussed, but she was never smiling when she left the room. Howard tried, on multiple occasions, to talk to her about him, about the project itself, but she opened to no one. Not even Howard Stark.

"You can't keep secrets. It's my organization too, ya know. I was the one that brought you into this," he fumed, crossing his arms as she headed her way to Barnes' room once again. "What, do you plan to take me out of it because I am showing interest to a threat, rather than sticking him in a lab and making an enemy of him?" She retorted, raising an eyebrow. To this, he stayed quiet and groaned, walking back to his office. "Contrary to your belief, you are not the center of my universe, and neither is this organization. I have other things, like James, to care for. No one else is willing to," she spun on her heels, shaking her head as she made her way to the center of the facility, where the safe room was. She knocked a bit as she got there, and per usual, he ignored it until she explained that it was her. He then opened the door, but went back into his position on the bed, holding his head as she walked in. "Are you alright..?" She asked, sitting across the room from him.

"I remember him."

_A/N: I told you it would be quick! Just want everyone to keep in mind how fast Bucky 'remembered' in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and also, this won't be an all at once thing. It'll all fall into place, I promise! Thank you for still reading this, you are awesome! :)_


	5. Chapter 5

The initial shock hit her like a bullet, making her step back. She knew exactly what and who he meant, but it was still shocking. "You do..?" He nodded, moving his hands over his face. "Yeah, and you," he added, again making her raise her eyebrows and take a deep breath. "Al-.. Alright, tell me what you know," she managed, running a hand through her hair. To this, he slowly stood up, pacing a bit. It seemed as he was as surprised as she was to this new information. "Steve's.. He was my best friend, my.. My brother, even. I've known him since I was.. Since I was a kid, I think.. I – I don't know, I just know that he is important, and.. you, you're his girl." To this, she took a deep breath, trying to keep her heart from swelling as it always had when anyone spoke of Steve. "You were the one he wouldn't stop yapping about during the war, the one in the bar." She nodded, keeping her head held low. She was glad he remembered, yes, but there were things she did not want to face. Not yet. "What.. what happened to him?" He asked, making her again, take a deep breath. Of course, she expected this, but was she prepared to talk about it? Even she did not know. "Do you really want to know?" She asked, looking at him a bit. He gave her a look of sadness and guilt, then nodded slowly.

"There.. There was a man named Johann Schmidt, I don't doubt you recall who he was. He lead Hitler's science division, or HYDRA, as it was called. All of us with the SSR, including Captain Rogers, worked to put that to rest, which would, in turn, give us the advantage in the war." She took a deep breath, never once making eye contact with him. "Ste- Captain Rogers had lead the Howling Commandos to his base, to which we knew was the last, and we knew he had plans to target the world. In the end, we won, but at a cost. Steve put down his life in order to save multiple major cities from being bombed, wiping out populations at a time. He.. He piloted the plane towards the water, and.. hasn't been found, nor do we believe he would be if we continued to search." She finished, then stood up, moving to the back of the room. "Excuse me for a moment," she whispered, then as she turned away, she let the stinging tears roll down her cheeks. He sat back down, processing the information. His best friend was gone, and he was not there to help, or even be there with him. Neither of them were content with sharing how they felt, and for them, it was alright that way.

It was not long after when Peggy dismissed herself from his room, saying she had some sort of meeting, though they both knew that was not the case. Meanwhile, Bucky glanced at his hands, feeling a sort of hatred he had not known for such a long while, a kind of hatred that grew from his stomach up. If he had never become the Winter Soldier, he could have prevented this, and the world would have it's dear Captain America back, but more importantly, he would have Steve back. He stood up slowly and walked to a mirror, taking in his appearance. It had been years since anyone let him care for himself, and even he forgot what he looked like. Looks did not matter when the only ones who saw you died moments after. He ran his hand through his hair, grimacing slightly at it's length. If the war had still been going on, he would have been in serious trouble. But the war was long over, or at least it was for everyone else. For him, the war was every day, and it never ended. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face, the cold metal of his left hand never once making him stumble. It was a part of him, it was who he was becoming. It was the Winter Soldier, it was him.

_No,_ he thought, shaking his head. _The Winter Soldier is dead._ He looked at himself in the mirror once again, now determined. _Your name is Bucky, _he continued, but this time, it was different. This time, he believed in the man he was, and he was ready to become James Barnes once again.

_A/N: I can't help but love poor Bucky, and not just because Sebastian is beautiful, though that is definitely a bonus! Thanks for still reading this dump of boredom and sleep deprivatio- I mean, story!_


	6. Chapter 6

A week later, Bucky chose to pack his bags and leave the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, much to Peggy's disappointment. "You cant, I.. Here you are safe, and no one can get to you," she reasoned as he packed, but to him, it sounded more like begging. They hadn't talked since he mentioned Steve, but he was not surprised by this. He lifted up his metal arm, shaking his head. "I can handle myself. Besides, I thought you said I wasn't a prisoner," he turned and smirked her way, obviously amused at her stubbornness. "You aren't, but I am asking you to be reasonable. I don't know.. I don't know if you are ready to see the world as it is," she crossed her arms, and he just nodded to her. "I know I'm not, but if I'm here, I'm not gonna start. Figured, if I gotta do it, might as well do it sooner than later. Besides, you got better stuff to do than keep an eye on me. I got this," he assured her, and she could only stare at him. He was sounding more and more like himself each day, and the Winter Soldier seemed to be nothing but a ghost. He shrugged sarcastically, then walked out without another word. "James, come on," she followed, still fuming. "We can't help you when you are out like that." She kept a good pace, though her version of keeping up was a lot harder with him. "I don't need help," he looked forward, all but ignoring her. This, of course, only made her more upset. "Oh, don't give me that. You may have the rest of them fooled, but not me. I know you are not alright, I know that you need help." He stopped at this, taking a deep breath. "Look, you've been nice, thanks, but no thanks." He kept walking, but she stood still, looking off with a confused and slightly angered look. "Hey!" She called out as he stepped out of the building, tightening her jacket. "James, wait." He stood still, then turned around with a slight eye roll. "Just.. keep in contact, alright?" He sighed, then nodded. "Fine, but let's skip the chats alright? I don't need a counselor, and I don't need you to be one for me." She put her hands in her pockets, nodding a bit. "Then what am I, nothing more than an agent?" To this, he turned around again, chuckling. "How 'bout a friend?" He kept walking, slinging his bag of his old clothes over his shoulder. "And my name is Bucky, not James," he added, smirking back at her.

The small apartment in Brooklyn he found for himself was nothing more than a studio, but he didn't care. It was only him, and it would only ever be him, which was perfectly fine. He was fine with being alone. It took some time before he was truly settled in, only having a small mattress for himself and a small pile of clothing. This, though, did not bother him in the slightest. He was a cold-blooded killer, why would he need anything more? Or, he was. In truth, even he did not know what he was going to become now. He wanted to be Bucky, the man who sacrificed himself for his faith, but he was no longer the same man he was before, nor was he even close to getting there. He knew what he knew, and from the things he was told, that was enough to make a new life for himself. What he didn't expect, however, was the people's looks and reactions. The world did not see him as a man who had no control over himself, but saw him as a murderous and vicious myth, one that was put there to make soldiers fear. It worked, but he was more than just a story. He was James Barnes, an orphaned soldier with nothing but a brother bonded by hardship. Now, what was he, and what did he have left? He was truly alone, and that was a terrifying thought in itself.

After a bit of sitting around, he decided to walk around the city, just to be comfortable with this place that was supposed to be home. He wore a dark jacket and gloves, keeping his arm completely concealed. He found himself constantly pushing at the sleeve, making sure there were no signs of it. He passed by old structures and newer buildings, still not recognizing anything of it. He stopped at each alley, not knowing why or if there was a real reason behind doing so. One, though, seemed to stand out, though he could not explain why. He walked down, and though he knew Steve was involved, he couldn't quite figure out how. Not knowing was something that frustrated him more than anything. He glanced around at the brick walls around him, his anger rising. Why did he not remember these things? Why couldn't he just remember already? Before he had time to stop himself, his fist had hit the bricks, making a small hole in them. His glove had slightly ripped, and his strength made him stop and stare at the damage he had done. He glanced down at his metal arm, grimacing. "When we put it on you, we didn't think you'd use it to smash in bricks," a new voice filled the area, a voice that made shivers run down his spine. "Who are you?" He growled, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. The man came behind him and gripped his arm, and though he tried to fight it, it was as if he was programmed not to hurt him. He struggled, but he had no control of the arm attached to his body. "I suppose, if you'd like, you could call me your creator. You're needed back in, no questions," he mumbled, and before he could resist, he was lead to a place he despised more than anything.

Welcome back to HYDRA, he thought.

_A/N: Rereading this, I can really start to pick out some seriously annoying plot holes, but you know what? I'm my worst critic, so what the heck, let's just keep on rollin'. Again, this is getting right to the point because I would like to consider this a short story, and if it is far to quick, then I am very sorry. It'll slow down (no, it won't, I lied.), I'm sure! Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

Sparks flew around as he positioned himself on the seat, looking around the room with a miserable look on his face. He could not remember if it had been the first time this had happened, but it did not feel like it. He looked at the doctor who had dragged him to said place, and though his expression was stoic, he pleaded with his eyes. "Please, not again," he mumbled, hoping this time, his words would go through the doctor. He was a human being, after all, not an animal. They treated him as an animal, one that was trained to take command and never take a bad step, or else. The doctors continued adjusting the metal arm, which was more of their belonging than his. It was just a reminder to him of who he belonged to, and why he could never go against them. "You should not have gotten caught, мой маленький солдат." The Russian shocked him, but mostly in that he could understand. He opened his mouth in response, but was cut off by an electrical current running through his arm to his entire body, making him cry out in pain. It felt as if he had been burned from the inside out, and there was nothing he could do to save himself, to protect himself. He had no choice but to lay back and let the shocks run through his veins like a fire. Once it was over, and all that was left was the burning of his skin, he felt the men pull his jacket off, then placed small sensors on him. "Please.." He begged once again, only hoping they wouldn't take all that he had learned away. They couldn't, not again. It was all he had, and even that was nothing much. "Don't worry, you will keep your place and your memories. You are trusted by the people," the doctor spoke in an American accent, as if he had something to hide. He looked to the machines by him and then back at the doctor, his expression desperate and almost scared. "This is so that you remember who you are working for, and you don't consider running." As soon as he spoke, the machine attached to the arm, then it seemed to be putting some sort of information in it. For once, it didn't hurt him. However, the man molding the arm back to his arm caused all sorts of pain. He began to scream, but before he could, he let the men put a piece of plastic in his mouth, and he bit down, only muffling the screams a bit. No one cared if he was in pain, but only cared about fixing what was theirs, and in a sense, he belonged to these men. He was theirs, and he always would be.

It was a few hours later when he was finally let out, this time wounded and with a mission. If he failed the mission, it would cost the lives of millions, and he knew it. Before, when they wiped him of his memory, he never had to have lives depending on him. Now, if he took a wrong step, he would kill men and women of all sorts. There could not be a single flaw, not one. For him, that was supposed to be simple, but now, he feared it. He looked around, holding his shoulder tightly. It was concealed, of course, but it still stung. Before, he never had to think about pain. He was trained to disregard pain, to keep his focus on the mission and nothing else, but this was different. This time, he had to forget his training and be James Barnes, no matter what he did. How hard could that be?

As he walked down the streets of Brooklyn, still holding to his shoulder, he looked at the people walking by. Random strangers were now all future targets, and he knew any one of them could be his next kill, if it were necessary. He kept himself distracted with his surroundings, only stopping as he felt a tug on his shoulder. He turned to see none other then Peggy Carter herself, pulling at his arm. She saw his anger rise a bit, and raised her hands, letting go immediately. "Sorry, I.. I just meant to see if you were alright," she shrugged, and he looked back to get a good view of her. She wore athletic gear, and she seemed as if she had been exercising of some sort. "Have you been following me?" He asked, a bit too harshly. "What? No, no, I was.. I was just.." She looked back at a small building, a SHIELD logo on the door. "Training," she finished, then looked back to where he had walked. "What are you doing here, then?" He asked, making her look at him with a confused expression. He shifted uncomfortably, the movement in his shoulder making him hiss in pain. "Actually, I live here, but that is not important. Are you alright?" She asked, motioning to his shoulder. "Yeah, fine. I sh-.." He stopped himself, remembering his mission. "Actually, I don't know." He tried his best to seem put together, to seem like nothing had happened. His skin was crawling and his shoulder was hurting in ways he could not describe. "Come in, I'll have a few doctors and myself look." She motioned to the building, shrugging slightly. "The medical care in our division is extraordinary. I'm positive they can help." He nodded, then followed her into the building, clutching onto his blade in his pocket, reminding himself in his mind the consequences if he should take a wrong step. There could not be a single mistake, and if that meant putting everyone in danger, he would be prepared for it. He was prepared for anything.

_A/N: Yeah, remember that thing I said about 'short story'? Yeah, I've all but given up on that. That's okay though, it's just a really eventful story, I suppose! Also, the little Russian in there, yeah, that is Google Translate, so if that is wrong, well, I wouldn't know. I always get nervous when there's other languages involved. Anyways, thanks again for reading! (And yes, I will say that at every chapter. It doesn't feel complete without it.)_


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky hissed in pain as the liquid substance was put on his shoulder, and he couldn't help but to react. "Don't touch me," he growled, glaring at a nurse. She didn't stop, which made him more infuriated. He calmed a bit as he felt a hand on his other arm, looking over to see Peggy staring at him. "She is just trying to help," she reasoned, and he only looked away. "I tried to tell you I'd be fine. I'm always fine," he lied, moving his shoulder so the nurse could not work with it. "Don't touch me," he repeated, gripping onto the counter tightly. There was nothing he hated more than people touching his arm, and if he could help it, he wouldn't let anyone get close enough to it to try. It reminded him that he was a killer, and if anyone got too close, they could become the next victim. The nurse walked out after receiving permission from Peggy, which only made Bucky more uncomfortable. "You know as well as do that you are not fine," she walked over to his other side, looking over the injuries. In the places where his skin met metal, his skin was red and swollen, as if it had been repeatedly messed with. "Did you..?" She dared to ask, raising her eyebrows. He thought about how he should respond, and if it were even smart to say anything. Of course it was not me, he thought, but he could only nod on the outside. She did not say a word – as if there were anything proper to say at the time – but grabbed a towel and dabbed more of the substance on it. He tensed, but unlike with the nurse, he didn't push her away. Regardless of what he said, he knew that if he let anything fester, it would prove to be a weakness of his, which he could not have. A man like him couldn't have weaknesses, not while people were depending on his strength with their lives. "Does.. Does it come.. off?" She asked nervously, not wanting to ask anything that could offend him. "No," he answered quickly, looking forward. There was a moment of silence as he thought of how the arm had been put on, and how it had been put on him, or more like welded to him. "It's a part of me, I guess. I don't know how, but it doesn't come off. Believe me, I've tried," he said under his breath, only loud enough for her to hear. She took a deep breath and continued to clean the wound, only stopping to ask him questions. "What all did they do to you?" She asked without hesitation, looking at him with curiosity and something resembling pity. He thought about all the things he could tell her, all of the things they put him through, but he knew what would happen if he did. "I don't know, really," he attempted, wishing he could run now. No, he was not allowed to even consider it. In order to run, he'd have to be something more than a machine, which he was not. He noticed her silence and looked over at her, still unable to get a read on her. Why did she want to help so badly? It was not like she owed anything to him, or that she was just that sort of person. She was always there, and it made him even more furious. He wasn't allowed to get close to people, for their safety. He never wanted her to become his next target. "Do you remember the day I came into the hospital room, and you-" "Yes," he cut her off quickly, knowing what she would say. Of course he remembered. He remembered every time he woke up in a panic, and especially the one time someone was there with him. "You were begging for them to stop, for them to be quiet. I don't mean to pry, but I want to help," she stated, and he looked away, trying to forget the thoughts. "You wouldn't understand," he cautioned, daring to send a glance her way. She couldn't know all that they were capable of. "Actually, I would. I may not have had to face all you have, but I've been where you are. The nightmares alone are too much for a single person to deal with," she stated, then placed her hand on his arm. "But you do not have to face it alone," she added, smiling a bit. He stared at her with wide eyes, then at her hand on his metal arm. Why wasn't she scared? Why wasn't she running? He looked away and frowned, then did something he'd regret. "They told me that I was a salvation to the world, and that the people I crossed off were meant to die. They see me as a pet, as something they can unleash when someone opposed them." He clenched his teeth, and the grip on the counter tightened as he spoke. "Who is 'they'?" She asked, and he tensed at this. HYDRA, he thought, but he knew he already said too much. "I never asked, they never told," he lied, letting go of the counter. "You won't have to worry about that anymore, not now. You're going to be fine," she smiled, then moved her hand off of the arm. He looked at her, trying to seem like he was thankful, but it was nothing more than a front. If only you knew, he thought.

When he finally left the base, his shoulder only stinging compared to the pain before, he looked around for a moment, trying to find his way back to the small apartment of his. Before he could make his way back, though, he was stopped by a man dressed in black, and he knew the trouble he was in. He followed the man – like a dog, he thought – grimacing already. He could not be free, and it was far too obvious now. Once they reached the destination, he was once again strapped to the chair, the shocks running through him once again. This time, it was harsh and much more intense, and his screams grew louder with it. "You shouldn't have said a word," the man said, then shocked him once again. With time, though, he numbed. After all, he was the Winter Soldier. He wasn't allowed to feel pain. His screams subsided with time, as well as the currents running through him. "You are too weak," the man growled, and for once, he believed it. "We will send in someone else for this, prep him for a wi-" "No." Bucky interrupted, getting a glare in return. "I can do it." He was all but begging, but he couldn't lose all he had worked hard to build up. "I am weak, but I am cold. I am the Winter Soldier, I can do it." It took a bit, but soon, the man smirked and nodded. "Alright, little Soldier, let's see just how cold you are. Get into the home base in a week. If you can't, we'll send someone in to take care of the situation, someone who will do it the right." He nodded, then was let out of the chair. He gave the men in the room a glare, then walked out, almost twitching in anger. "Hail HYDRA."

_A/N: Posting on here is not as fun as it used to be. Anyways, thanks for reading! _


	9. Chapter 9

His mission was clear. It was a job for information and for trust, two things he was capable of getting. His skills in regards to undercover work were not as good as his work as an assassin, but they were good no different. Not to mention, she made it a challenge, and he was determined to come up on top. She was not like the others in that she was not oblivious to the truth around her. There were many things she figured out, and many things she was catching on to.

Peggy Carter was more than a mission, she was a threat.

There was one major flaw in her, and that was her heart. While her mind was not easily convinced, her heart was weak. If she had not been driven by her desire for Captain America, he thought, she could have saved him. If she had not been so loyal and attached to S.H.I.E.L.D. as an organization, she would be safe. No, she was not the cold-blooded soldier he was, but she was a good leader and a smart one at that. Nothing slipped her gaze, not even the things she was not there for. She had eyes everywhere, and that in itself made his mission tricky, but not impossible. As the Winter Soldier, he could get no where in this, but as Bucky Barnes, he could not only complete his mission, but do so in a way that would damage S.H.I.E.L.D. in ways they never imagined. It was not the right thing, but there were no right and wrong sides anymore. He had his orders, and he would follow them like a proper soldier would.

"So, how did you come about being one of the first directors of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" He asked, though he was overly concerned about the way he spoke. Would he have asked such a thing before the Winter Soldier? It was hard to become a man he did not even know, but he was going to try. Though it really did not matter, since she had little to no knowledge of who he was as he did. All he had to do was seem human, which for him, was hard enough as it was. She chuckled from in the kitchen, then walked out with two glasses of scotch in her hands. She handed one to him, and sat down across from him, holding hers to her lips. "There's a story," she rolled her eyes, then tilted the glass back to take a sip of it, which was followed by an involuntary exhale. She set the glass on the table beside her and leaned back in the chair, taking a deep breath. "After the war, there really was no need of an agent with my skill set, so I was demoted to working a desk job while the men did all of the dirty work. I am not that sort of person, but I did my job the way I should have, or at least I did for a good six months. After a while, the persecution and bullying grew tiresome, and I took matters into my own hands." The way she spoke, he could tell she was proud of herself. "What did you do?" She smirked, taking the glass into her hands again. "While the men were out drinking or who knows what, I took a mission meant for a handful of agents on my own, and completed in by the night's end, and also completed my work. This caught the attention of Howard Stark, though I believe it was mostly my gender that made him choose me to work by his side. Anyways, he offered the job and I took it and left the bloody desk job and became their boss." She took a sip of the amber drink, her smirk never fading for a moment. He chuckled to this, taking a sip of his own drink. "Impressive," he nodded, and she only shrug in response. "Do you like you position?" He asked, but cursed himself silently for seeming nosy._ She would notice, and I will fail my mission_, he thought, but she only shrugged again in response. "I wouldn't say I like it, but I do not mind it. It is nice to know that I am doing something to help the world, and in a way, honoring those we've lost in the past." He felt a lump in his throat as she spoke, and the guilt he felt was unfamiliar and most definitely unwelcome. She was innocent in regards to what was happening within her organization, and that was the plan. She took another sip of of her scotch, then set it down, taking another deep breath. He closed his eyes and refocused himself, thinking back to his mission. Gain her trust, and get the information needed. "He would have been proud of you," he nodded, finishing the drink in his hands. She smiled to this, shaking her head a bit. "He would have been more proud of you and how far you've come," she added, giving him yet another look he could not decipher. He took a deep breath, letting his disappointment show at first, but then forced it away with a smile. He knew that if Steve knew the man he truly was, he would not be proud, but perhaps he didn't have himself to blame. After all, he was just following orders. "Maybe," he finally responded, then took a deep breath himself. They sat in a comfortable silence for some time before Peggy stood up, sighing softly. "Well, I can make us some tea, if you'd like, or..?" He shook his head, then looked around for a moment. "Nah, I don't really want to interrogate you anymore." That was the truth, at least. "But hey, why let a night go to waste?" He stood up slowly, rolling his right arm back into it's place. "Hm?" She grabbed his glass and slowly made her way to the kitchen as he followed behind her. "Remember in the bar? You said after the war, you would go dancing," he leaned against the counter, shrugging slightly. "War's over," he smirked, keeping to his plan perfectly. She gave him a short look of shock, then looked away, cleaning the dishes. "I haven't got the time," she violently scrubbed the glasses, as he walked over and took them from her. "Yeah, you do." She flashed a wide-eyed glare, then shook her head. "I don't dance, Bucky." He set the cups down, then took a deep breath. "He would have wanted you to dance," he again used her weakness against her, and it worked better than he imagined. She of course looked away in pain, then took a deep breath. "Look, I know I'm not him and I won't try to be, but at least let me take you dancing. Consider it a thank you for all you've done for me," he pressed the matter, knowing he had to convince her or else his plan was all but shattered. "Alright," she said after a couple of moments, then looked over at him with a sad smile. He smiled at her and nodded, stepping away for a moment. "I'll pick you up at 8, alright?" He stepped backwards towards the door, and she nodded, taking a deep breath. "You got it," she shrugged, then stepped away from the sink for a moment to say a proper goodbye. He slowly opened the door, and she stepped forward, holding her hand out. "Bucky?" He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow. "Don't be late," she said seriously, then chuckled almost sadly. "I wouldn't want to have another person not show up for a dance." He nodded and walked out, the guilt rising to his throat. For a moment, as he walked away, he swore he could hear the sounds of her sobs in the distance. But maybe it was just the wind.

He walked up to the same doorstep hours later, on time as usual. After all, he was running on a tight schedule, and there was no time for delay. A couple moments later, she opened the door, but ran off before he had a chance to say anything. "Sorry, give me one moment. Sit, I will be right out!" He complied, walking in and closing the door behind him. He sat in the same chair as before, pulling his glove tightly over his hand. No one really wanted to dance with a robot, anyways. He sat there for a few moments until she walked out, wearing the same form fitting red dress as she had so many years ago, this time wearing her hair in loose victory rolls, as she had during the war. "You clean up fast," he commented, which earned him an unimpressed look. "You gave me only a few hours, I did what I could. Now are we going to dance, or are you going to continue to drool?" He smirked and stood up, holding his arm out. "I couldn't help it," he shrugged, and she just rolled her eyes. They walked for quite some time, the majority of the time in silence. He looked around the streets surrounding the dance club, spotting undercover agents who he recognized instantly. "What are you looking for?" She asked suddenly, almost making him jump. "What?" He looked down at her, his shoulders tensing a bit. _She's catching on,_ he thought, and that was a very bad thing. "You keep looking around nervously. Is something wrong?" He shook his head quickly, then tried to shake it off with a shrug. "No, I.. nothing's wrong, it's.." _Think of something, soldier. _"Before I went to war, I used to walk down these streets to find Steve, since he was probably getting himself beaten to a pulp in an alley somewhere. I guess it's just habit now," he lied, then glanced around once again. There were some good things about continuing his mission with his memories in tact, but the guilt afterward was not a perk at all. He lead them into the club, and she seemed to freeze at the name of the place. She must have known this was where they were going, but it still made her stop. "C'mon," he grabbed her hand and walked in, and her expression softened slightly. "Ever heard of the Stork Club?" he asked as they walked in, and she looked up at him and nodded slowly, but her mind was elsewhere and he knew it. He glanced around to see a group of agents talking, and he nodded to them slowly before taking both of her hands in his. "Well, we came here to dance, let's not waste any time!" He smiled at her, but it faded as he looked away from her and to the agents. He pulled her to the dance floor, not giving her much of an option to the matter. Around them, couples danced to the swing music, stepping and hopping every which way, and for a moment, he was determined to try with her, but she did not seem interested. "I.. I don't think I can do it, Bucky," she gave him a sad look, then glanced at the couples. "It's really easy, I'll teach you-" "No, I mean.. This, I can't.. I can't do this." She pulled away, and he panicked. There was no time for complications. She had to be dancing with him at the right time or else there would be consequences. She had to be in the right position at the right time for his mission to be complete. There were no other second options. "Hey, it's fine, we don't have to be like the others, it's just a dance." She still pulled away, and he could feel the fear running through his veins. He grabbed onto her arm with his right arm and pulled her close, forcing her to stand with her hand right hand linked with him, and her left hand on his chest. "Bucky, I can't-" "You can. You're not alone this time," he said, keeping her close as he swayed slowly, daring to lock his eyes with hers. She did not say a word and soon, she stepped with it as well. He looked around to the agents and nodded, and in short time, they moved forwards, slipping a small device on her without her noticing. She gave him a small smile after a bit, and he flashed a grin back. "Was that so hard?" She shrugged, laughing under her breath. "Come on, let's see how you take to swing," he smirked, and soon, he added a step to the dance, and soon, they were dancing like the rest in the room.

And for a while, he forgot about HYDRA and his missions.

_A/N: I don't know why I feel like Peggy would avoid dancing in it's entirety, but it fit, and I wanted to throw a little bit of a dance in there. You know, since Steve went and crashed into the ocean and ruined that. I had to fix some of that. As a serious Steggy shipper, this pains me deeply. Thanks for reading!_


	10. Chapter 10

"Mission report."

For a long while, he did not say a word, but simply thought about the mission. However, the 'mission' he was dwelling on was not the successful information exchange, but rather, the dancing and laughing, something he was not used to. In fact, he hadn't heard his laugh, and was almost afraid of it when it erupted from his lips. He was an assassin, and he didn't have the luxury of laughter.

"I _said _mission report," the young blonde man hissed, and to this, Bucky only glared back at him. "I _heard_ you," he retorted, raising an eyebrow. This threw the man off guard, and he liked that. He liked having some sort of control for once. "Director Carter does not suspect a thing, and the transaction went through easily and perfectly," he said in a monotone, almost mocking the man. He was boiling with anger, and it made it all worth it. "What about the rest of the night?" Bucky scoffed, looking around the room. "Why don't you ask the many men you sent to spy on me? What, did you think I wouldn't be able to do it?" He had a sense of cockiness about him that almost made him more of a soldier than he already was. "They were following orders, something you have stopped doing," the man stepped forward, and suddenly, Bucky wasn't so sure of himself. He was scared and vulnerable, and he was not in control. "I don't like that you've stopped following orders," he growled, getting inches from his face. "I'm not your lap dog. I am a man, not a soldier." This made the man step back in anger. "Right, sorry, I've forgotten all about your flaw." What did he mean, flaw? Bucky looked at the man, confused as ever. Before he could even form a response, a firm hand struck his jaw, making him only move his head. It did not hurt, but nothing hurt anymore. "You're not human, you're not a man. You're a machine. You're a soldier." He could only stare at the man with wide eyes, accepting the words all too quickly. He was right. After all, he was there to dance with a woman only so that he could learn every little secret she had to hide, and he was not only playing her, but using her in a way that could get her killed. After a long while of silence, Bucky swallowed and looked around, only hoping the pain he felt did not show. "At 0800, I went to the subject's property and took her to the Stork Club, it's coordinates being.."

After the long report, he walked out of the building, then to his small studio apartment , crashing on the couch where he continually slept at random points in the day. He had no need for a comfort, not when there was a mission at hand. Only this time, he wouldn't sleep. Before he could actually relax, he heard a small knock on the door, and he answered it, prepared to attack if it were really necessary. "..Peggy?" She smiled and nodded, holding her hand out with an envelope on the cover. "Howard usually hosts this big meal once a year, and usually, I would go alone, but I figured that perhaps you would want to come? You're free to say no, of course, but I figured I would ask anyways," she trailed off, and he took the envelope with a raised eyebrow. He, personally, would not want to go to some rich meal with a Stark, but he knew that this was an opportunity that he could not simply turn down. He had to gain Stark's trust as well, though he had hoped that he would trust Peggy's judgment. However, that was not looking like the case. "Yeah, I'll go." He shrugged, then looked at the date. "Tonight?" He raised his eyebrows, then looked her over. She wore her uniform, but this time, she did not seem so uptight. In fact, her shirt had not even been tucked in where it was usually, and she only wore the minimum amount of makeup. She looked happier, as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. "Yes, at six. And I would dress nice, since it is quite the event. Last year, he had a fountain filled with wine. Don't ask me why, I personally believe it was preposterous and ridiculous, but it _is _Howard Stark we are talking about." She shrugged, then realization hit her. "Oh, I am being rude. Deepest apologies, sometimes I can be quite.. daft at times. Here," she handed him a leather wallet, smiling slightly. "Courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D. Consider it.. a thank you for last night." He took the wallet and raised his eyebrows, shaking his head a bit. "Look, I'm not here to be pitied-" "Oh no, this is not pity. This is trust. I know that you are doing right, and I know that all of this will be used to fund your life. We were the ones who dug you from their clutches, we ought to support you financially as well. It's not pity, it's protocol. Plus, if you were to show up at a Stark party wearing anything but a suit, you'd most likely get judged by the country's most important people. It's a favor," she shrugged, then set her hands back to her side. "Anyways, I was just stopping by to give you that. You're welcome to come, but you don't have to." She looked around, stepping down a few steps. "Thank you again for last night. I.. I really needed that. Take care," she stepped down and started down the sidewalk. "Pegs, wait," he called out, then smirked passed the door. "You wouldn't happen to know where a fella could buy a tux around here, would you?"

The night fell sooner than he would have liked, but with a new mission and new instructions, he was prepared. It was simple, really. Earn the trust of the men and women in the room and learn more about Stark, finding his weaknesses and his flaws, and learning more about S.H.I.E.L.D. in it's entirety. He looked himself in the mirror and did not recognize himself at all. His hair was now cut short, and he was clean-cut. For once, he looked like a human, and not like a machine. A knock on the door startled him, but he went to it quickly to see Pegg- Director Carter standing in the doorway, wearing a deep blue gown that flattered her in each way he could imagine. "Ah, Bucky, you're ready. You look.." "Like a gentleman? Yeah, I don't think I like it. I much prefer a uniform. You look nice," he commented, then walked out slowly. "So, what did Stark send for us to-" He glanced at the red car, smirking slightly. "He sent this for us?" She raised an eyebrow and smirked, handing him the keys. "It's mine, not Stark's. If you crash it, you pay for it." He grinned at her, then all but climbed into the front seat. _This is what it's like to have someone trust you,_ he thought, but it was followed by the reminder that it was just a front. He drove them to the house – more like mansion in Bucky's opinion – and they walked out, her arm draped over his. "You know, just because I took you dancin', doesn't mean that makes you my girl," he teased, but she was not as entertained. "I didn't invite you as a date. I invited you as a friend." She all but hissed at him, then collected herself and walked in, a woman in gold greeting her with a hug. "Maria, it is good to see you," she smiled, and the woman agreed, then looked to Bucky. "You must be James," she smiled and held her hand out, and he shook it slowly. "Howard talks about you a lot, you know. He says you're the next hope for the organization, whatever that means. Anyways, go sit with the other people, but try to avoid the ones wearing silver. They're all just rich hags and I don't even know why that man invites them every year," she groaned, and Bucky could only stare at her for a bit. She was definitely the right match for Howard, that was for sure. "Come on, we've got to hurry before Phillips takes my spot," Peggy smirked, walking into the dining area, which was overly fancy and filled with people who seemed important. Why was he at this thing anyways? He didn't fit with these people. Peggy dragged him to the seat across from Maria's, which only made him more confused. He sat beside her and looked around, recognizing some of the men and women. "Who's all here?" He whispered, his eyes fixed on individual people. "Mostly just some representatives for other corporations and his people with Stark Industries, and a few others from S.H.I.E.L.D . and from the war," she whispered back, only to jump at the booming voice of a vaguely familiar man. "Bucky Barnes, back from the dead. This I had to see," he laughed, and Bucky turned around with a confused look on his face. "Timothy, how are you?" Peggy asked, though her expression made it seem like she did not really care how he was feeling. "How many times do I have to remind you, it's Dum Dum?" She almost groaned, but settled for a small eye roll instead as he focused his attention on Bucky. "Now how is it that you survived? Was there a cushion waiting for you? C'mon, you gotta tell me," he insisted, fixing his hat as he spoke. Bucky gave an almost panicked look to Peggy, and she got the hint quickly. "Timothy, a moment please," she said, grabbing his shoulder as she walked away. As she explained the situation to them, Bucky refocused himself to the men in the room, noticing the man right away. It was the man who controlled him, the man who he followed so graciously. He panicked for a moment, but stopped when Peggy returned. "Sorry, he.. he's not used to this sort of thing." When Bucky didn't respond, she looked him over, searching for answers. "Are you alright?" She asked, and he shook his head briefly before standing up and walking to the back hallway, making sure she didn't follow him. He tried to get out of that environment, away from that man. He couldn't risk losing everything. He was stopped by the man himself, and Bucky stepped back in fear. "What are you doing? You've got a mission, finish it. Don't disappoint me, little soldier," Bucky nodded and looked around, checking for any listeners. When he saw no one, he returned to the room, a smirk on his face as it had been before, as if nothing had happened at all. As long as he stuck to the plan, things would have worked out fine.

His plan would have been flawless, too, if it had not been for one Howard Stark listening from behind his bedroom door.

_A/N: Dun dun dun. Sorry, couldn't resist. Again, thanks for sticking with this thing if you're still reading. It really means a lot!_


	11. Chapter 11

For the majority of the night, Bucky all but stitched himself to Peggy's hip. Wherever she went, he followed, and while that was part of the plan, he felt wrong and rude, and like he was being taken advantage of. He felt uncomfortable in such an environment, not to mention the constant feeling that someone was watching his every move. He looked around, his paranoia showing clearly. When his eyes met those of Howard Stark's, he narrowed his eyes, trying to understand why exactly he had been watching him so carefully. He looked away after a while, but Howard did not. He was still focusing his attention on him, and that was unsettling to say the least. "Now, Bucky, what did you know of Captain America?" A rich businessman wearing a silver tie asked, but he was not paying attention in the slightest. He looked around and spotted over six HYDRA agents, each of them keeping a close eye on him, as if he were going to crack any second. He was stronger than that, and they would see that soon enough. His thoughts were cut off by a soft blow to his ribs, and a slight glare from Peggy. "Ow, what was that-" "What is going on? You're barely listening to anyone, and you keep looking around as if there is a danger here. Is there something I should know?" Again, she was noticing things he did not expect her to. "No, there's nothing wrong, it's just.. I don't belong here," He rubbed his side, even though her hits barely even pinched. He had to seem human, like he would bleed if she were to hit hard enough, which was not the case. She let out a small sigh, then glanced around the room. "I don't think anyone really belongs here. Most of this is for business, and perhaps some entertainment. You don't have to belong, or even try to fit in. Half of these people you will undoubtedly never see again, so there's not much point in trying." As she spoke, Howard slowly stood up from his chair, shaking the hands of a few men in tan suits. He then made his way over to the two of them, his typical smirk fading. "Howard, what a lovely party you've thrown," Peggy purred in an obviously unimpressed voice. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he laughed a bit, taking a long sip of his drink. "No, really, it is lovely. Not your style, but lovely." He shrugged, looking around the room a bit. "Eh, it's what these people want." He shrugged, and soon, Bucky spoke up. "Never thought you were a crowd pleaser," he teased, but as Howard looked over at him, he did not seem to be as entertained. "Well, sometimes people aren't always what they seem," he said in a monotone, making Bucky narrow his eyes at him. He was obviously catching onto something, but he couldn't be entirely sure what of. "It's nice of you to come tonight, Barnes. Tell me, how exactly did you get here? I mean, I'm _delighted _to have you, of course, but curious." He never once broke his glare, and neither did Bucky. It was not in either of their natures to back down. "I invited him, Howard, and he came with me. If there is a problem, you can come to me." Howard stared at her as if she had betrayed him in some way, or as if she were cursing his name to his face. She was stubborn, and she stood in between the two men, crossing her arms across her chest. "Peggy, may I have a moment with you? _Alone?_" He asked, almost stopping to glare at Bucky once again. She pulled him aside to a hallway, and Bucky not-so-discreetly listened as they spoke.

"What was that?" She asked. He could hear her tapping her foot, as if she was impatiently waiting for an answer. "I don't trust him. I don't care what they did to him, he killed people. He's killed _our _people, Pegs." Peggy gave him a small glare, then shook her head. "I'm not asking you to trust him, I'm asking you to treat him as you would treat any other person. He is not here because he has to be, he's here by choice. If you could keep that in mind, it would be much appreciated." _Oh, how wrong you are,_ Bucky thought, but closed his eyes to push the thoughts away. Hydra was in the right, and they always got what they wanted. This was for the greater good of the world, rather, the universe. He had to remind himself of that. "He's not who he says he is. He's not here because you want him to be. He's here on a mission and it isn't because he wants to make you happy. He's working for someone, Peggy. I'm onto him." Bucky felt every inch of him freeze at his words. He was onto him, and he couldn't have that. He couldn't let him find out. He couldn't let that happen to him. They'd skin him alive and not think twice about it. "Howard, don't be ridiculous. He is as free as you and I, you know that. Please, can we just get back to the party? I really do not have time for your unbelievable paranoia," she said with a roll of her eyes, then slipped her hand over his arm, forcing him to walk back into the room with her. To this, Bucky moved back to his previous position, clearing his throat slightly. "Ah, sorry about that. Howard needed a moment, but he's better now, yes?" She asked, forcing a smile on her lips. "Yeah, much better. I'm gonna go talk to the Senator, but please, enjoy yourselves," he slurred, almost as if he was dragging out what he had to say. Once he left, Bucky gave her a small frown, watching him walk to the rich men once again. "He doesn't like me, does he?" Peggy shrugged, grabbing a glass of champagne and sipping it slowly. "If you want my honest opinion, I think he's jealous. You knew Steve better than anyone," she then tipped the glass up, finishing it much quicker than she probably should have. "Better than you?" He asked, glancing down at her. To that, she gave him another one of her obvious fake smiles, then set her glass down. "Even I am jealous at how well you knew him. I wish I had that opportunity," she sighed, then shook her head, looking around. "I.. I don't know about you, but I am exhausted." She smiled sadly, then started towards the door. "I just want away from this," he answered truthfully, following her. She said her goodbyes to Maria and waved to the Howling Commandos, then walked out of the large house, heaving a sigh. "It is at a time like this where a woman needs a cigarette," she spoke softly, almost as if it would be a scandalous thing if she were to start smoking then. "Never pinned you as a smoker," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "There's a lot you don't know about me," she said, and somehow, he felt like she had said that before. She walked to her car, stroking the exterior lightly. "Are you driving?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Nah, I think I'm going to walk. Gotta think things through a bit," he shrugged, smiling sadly at her. "You go on ahead, and I'll run into you later, alright?" She nodded and stepped closer, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. "You're a remarkable man, Sergeant Barnes," she smiled, then walked to the other side of the car. "War's over, sweetheart. It's still just Bucky," he responded, smirking as he had been before. "Drive safe," he said, leaning forwards slightly.

_A/N: After this, chapters will be posted every week, typically on Mondays, but definitely once a week. And Author's Notes will be much shorter. Thanks for reading!_


End file.
